


My Drunken Angel

by luciferslittlehellhound



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, Hangover, M/M, Memory Loss, Sick Castiel, Sickfic, drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-29 10:50:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1004527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luciferslittlehellhound/pseuds/luciferslittlehellhound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Danss with me Deaan." Cas laughs, his eyes glassy yet bright with life.</p><p>Dean decides to take Cas out for a drink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cherry Pie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [balthazar_in_221B](https://archiveofourown.org/users/balthazar_in_221B/gifts).



> Drunken Angel - Thea Gilmore  
> Cherry Pie - Warrant
> 
> Just a little drunk thing. But what will happen in the morning? Dun dun dun. 
> 
> Inspired by Kas, because she got me talking about hungover Cas.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

There's a drunken angel  
Dances to my heart  
Singin' lonely days  
Brand new start  
Brand new start

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Saturday night, and Dean decides it was time to show Cas a good time, the proper way; Saturday night at a bar. Dean had practically drags Cas out of the door, shouting a farewell to Sam who insists on having a quiet night in. And then they're off. Walking of course. Dean may be a little reckless but he isn't suicidal, no way. Tonight, they are going to get smashed, and there is no way either of them will be in a fit state to drive after tonight. The last time Cas was drunk he had his angel mojo, and it took an entire liquor store just to get him tipsy. Dean had been dying to get Cas drunk from the moment they ran into each others arm about 2 months ago, just after the angels fell.   
The conversation is friendly the whole way there. Even the pauses and silences in between chat are comfortable, nothing seems awkward with Cas anymore. But soon the roar of music and people breaks the quiet, and large, flashing, neon signs hurt their eyes.   
"Perfect" Grins Dean, smacking Cas on the shoulder, "Now this is what I'm talking about!".  
Cas smiles nervously back and Dean laughs at how awkward he looks, so out of place in jeans and one of Dean's old AC/DC t-shirts. Dean grabs Cas' hand and tugs him towards the nearest bar, and they disappear off down a dark corridor. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Dean has lost count of the amount of alcohol that has been consumed. But however much that is, however much it costs, however much it is going to hurt in the morning; it is totally worth it. Cas, is standing on a table. Singing. And not just any singing. Loud singing. And if Dean's drunk ears don't deceive him (which they probably do, him being drunk and all), pretty damn good singing.   
"She's my cherry pie  
Cool drink of water such a sweet surprise  
Tastes so good makes a grown man cry  
Sweet Cherry Pie"  
Dean beams up at the ex angel, who has acquired some fans, who laugh along and sing with him. Dean promises himself that as soon as he starts hip thrusting he will take him home, but for now, he will just sit back and enjoy the view. This is too precious to disturb. Cas jumps suddenly off of the table, wobbles a little, then stumbles over to Dean.  
"Deaaan." He moans, his deep gravelly voice sounding stupid mixed with the childlike cry. "Deeeeeaaan!" Cas insists, tugging on Dean's jacket, bouncing up and down on the spot.  
Dean snickers to himself, "What Casss?" he slurs slightly. Maybe they've had enough to drink. Maybe they should go home. Maybe.   
"Whas tha matter buuddy?"  
"Danss with me Deaan." Cas laughs, his eyes glassy yet bright with life. Cas' eyes crinkle at the corners with a smile, his white teeth match the glint in his glazed, blue eyes. Dean shakes his head, trying to clear it, and saying no at the same time.  
"Come on Deaan. Lif a litte!"  
Dean rolls his eyes at the drunken angel and get up off his seat. The room spins, so he steadies himself with one hand before grabbing Cas shoulder with the other.  
"Jus one dans." He promises, staring straight into Cas' piercing blue eyes.


	2. Mornin' Sleepyhead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hangovers are the worst. So imagine how Cas feels when he gets hit with a hangover, without angel mojo, for the first time, after spending all night doing god know what.

Pain. Lights. And pain. Dean squints his eyes against the bright sunlight pouring through the bunker window. He pushes himself up off his stomach, and immediately his head begins to spin. "Apparently not then." He mumbles to himself before lowering himself back onto the sofa, which he has no recollection of getting on last night. Dean tries to block out the sunlight with his hand and fails, moaning at the throbbing pain in his skull. A chuckle erupts from the other end of the room.   
"Mornin' sleepyhead!" Smiles Sam, delighted at his brothers hangover.   
"Shut up Sam." Dean throws back, before rolling to bury his pounding head into the sofas cushions. Sam's grin nearly splits his face I half, and his huge shoulders jiggle up and down and he tries to contain his laughter. Dean moans into the pillow. What the hell happened last night? How did they even get home?! Dean ponders on these thoughts for a moment before deciding they're too strong a subject for his currently exploding head. Somewhere from the floor of the room a quiet moan escapes the lips of a hungover angel.   
"Dean?" Cas whimpers, his voice barely audible in the quiet room. Cas' voice sound rough and scratchy, as if something is caught in his throat. It sounds tight as well, as if he is continuously wincing in pain.  
Dean clears his throat, "Hey, right here Cas."  
Sam starts to laugh, unable to control it any more. His short, loud bursts of laughter echo around the room and vibrate through Dean's brain. Dean and Cas moan simultaneously, clutching at their ears and squeezing their eyes shut. Sam claps a hand across his mouth, muffling his laughter.  
"I'm sorry, sorry, I'll leave." He gasps breathlessly, eyes watering slightly, smile still etched on his face. Cas growls, in what seems like approval, from where his face is buried in the crook of his elbow, and Dean grunts at his brother.  
"I'll bring you guys some water." Sam says, before adding, "And painkillers. Want anything else?"  
"Bucket." Dean mumbles from the depths of the sofas cushions. He may not feel like throwing up now but his stomach is already sloshing about sickeningly and Cas has never had a hangover before. The bathroom is pretty close but better safe than sorry. Sam utters a quiet "Gross.", before tip toeing out of the room, off to get supplies.   
"How you doin' over there angel boy?" Dean whispers across the room, trying to keep the noise low for Cas' and his own sake. At first Cas doesn't reply, and Dean assumes he's probably gone back to sleep, lucky bastard, but then, "I don't know...". Cas reply is small and shaky and Dean's heart fills with guilt. He should have given Cas a heads up before dropping him straight into alcohol city and then sending him down hangover highway. Sam's footsteps echo from down the hallway, and softly, he enters the room, sets down two glasses of water, presses painkillers into their palms, sets down buckets, and leaves. Dean sighs heavily. Today is going to be an extremely long day. He places the pills onto his dry tongue and throws back the water, letting in moisten his parched mouth and throat as he swallows the pills. He look over at where Cas is lying, and see him frowning at the pills in confusion. "You swallow them," Dean murmurs, "It should stop you feeling like you've been hit like a truck.". Cas nods knowingly before downing the pills with a sip of water, grimacing as the slide down his throat. Dean shut his eyes and slides into a light sleep.


	3. The Day Just Got Longer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so the sickness begins...

Dean wakes up to someone pawing at his thigh. "Dean." Cas whispers, his voice filled with panic and distress. "Dean!" He whimpers, a bit more urgently.   
"What is it Cas?"  
"Dean, what's wrong with me?" Cas voice sounds like he's about to start crying.  
"It's called a hangover Cas, it will go away, I promise."  
"But Dean!" Cas cries, his voice thick and heavy, on the verge of tears. Dean rubs his eyes before opening them, and Cas is leaning agains the end of the sofa, hand wrapped around Dean's thigh, looking a very unhealthy greeny gray colour.  
"Oh shit." Whispers Dean, before he swings his legs off of the sofa and grabs the nearest bucket, shoving it under Cas' chin, and kneeling down beside him. Cas' eyes brim with tears, wide and sacred, he looks like a little kid, and Dean stares straight back into the icey blue of them.  
"Okay buddy this is gonna really suck but you're just gonna have to hang on okay?" Dean starts to rub circle between Cas shoulder blades, just where his wings used to be.  
"Dean I-"  
"Shhh, it's okay, I know, just relax okay?"  
Cas lower lip starts to tremble. Oh crap here we go, tears and puke, just what we need. Dean grasps Cas' clammy hand whilst still rubbing circles on his back. Then Cas starts to heave. It's painful to watch, knowing he can't do anything about, knowing how crap it feels having your first hangover, puking your guts up. Dean grabs the nearest glass of water and shoves it into Cas hand as soon as he's finished throwing up.   
"Just swill it around your mouth and then spit it out." Dean pats Cas gently on the back as he spits the water into the bucket.   
"I'll be right back, okay man?"   
Cas nods slightly, pale and shaking, so Dean grabs one of his jumpers, which is slung over a chair, and wraps it round his shoulders, pressing the second bucket into his hands before he leaves.  
"If you feel weird again just shout, and aim for the bucket, I'm just going to wash this one out." Dean turns and heads to the bathroom, glancing at the clock as he goes. 1 o'clock. Seems like the day just got longer.


	4. Hey Jude

Dean sets the bucket down on the floor beside the bath as he turns the hand shower on, washing Cas' colourful vomit down the drain. Dean grimaces at the colour before turning off the taps, and replacing the shower head back to its place. As soon as he stands up his stomach lurches. Dean spins for the toilet and heaves his guts into the bowl, sobbing as he does. He hates this part of a hangover. He is hardly ever sick, but when he is, it gets nasty. He drags his hand across his face and spits into the toilet before flushing its contents. Shit. Dean gingerly gets to his feet before washing his mouth out and heading back towards Cas. Cas is right where Dean left him; slumped against the sofa, arms wrapped tightly around the bucket. Dean shuffles back to the sofa before flopping backwards onto it, retracting a small moan from Cas. He puts down the extra bucket before giving Cas a once over.   
"How you feelin'?"  
"Weird. Fuzzy." Cas whimpers, screwing his eyes shut.  
"Weird as in I'm-gonna-throw-up-weird or just weird."  
"I don't know." Sobs Cas, head leant against the edge of the bucket.   
"Hey, don't cry man, it's oka-" Dean starts, before his stomach jumps again and he grabs the spare bucket off the floor and heaves into it.   
Once he's finishes Dean smiles weakly at Cas, "I think this is worse than actual hell." He jokes, before placing down the bucket, too drained to go rinse it out straight away. Footsteps fall quickly, quietly, and echo from the corridor. The door squeaks open and Sam pops his head in.  
"How're you holdin' up in here?" He asks, glancing quickly at the bucket.   
"Why we're just fine Sammy." Dean smiles weakly, turning round to look at Cas who has gone a funny colour again, "Crap!". Dean pushes Cas head towards the bucket as Cas starts to retch and rubs his back soothingly. Sam's muttered "Ew." Can be heard from the doorway.  
"Sam, once you've stopped being such a girl do you feel like getting me and Cassie boy some paper towels please?" Sam scowls at Dean before sighing like the drama queen he is a turning on his heel. "And a rinsing of the buckets would be appreciated!" Dean calls after him, wincing at the loudness of his own voice. Cas' moan echoes Dean's wince and Dean strokes his hair gently, quietly humming Hey Jude under his breath.   
"What are you doing Dean?" Cas whispers quietly.  
"When I was little, if me or Sammy were sick, my mom used to stroke our hair, and hum Hey Jude. It was her favourite Beatles song." Dean smiles at the memories of his mum brushing his hair out of his eyes, wiping away tears, sticking on plasters, taking temperatures. Sam was to young to remember. Hell, he couldn't even walk. But she would still hum it to him when he wouldn't sleep, or if he was sick a little. It was the only thing he could think of to comfort Cas, and to be honest he hadn't really been thinking about it he'd just done it. Cas sighs deeply, resting his hot head against Dean's thigh, Dean's fingers still knotted in his black hair.  
"It's nice." Said Cas suddenly. "Thank you." Dean gives the ex angel a small smile and looks down into his blue eyes.  
"Anything for my drunken angel." He says.


End file.
